Page 27 of Our Sins in Silver (Coven of Sin 3)

“You good, Princess?”

I wasn’t good. The kiss was tearing me down to the foundation of my being, and it hurt like a mother. But I was reveling in the pain. That didn’t mean this didn’t need to end before Vincent took it too far. Because he would.

We could all feel it.

The last thing we needed was for our dark fae to decide he’d had enough of my blood, only to feed on my pain instead. Since I was still in my monstrous state, I had every ability to make Vin stop. But before I could, Eros dropped to a crouch and took his brother by the hair.

In true Deathwish fashion, he was delicate in the way he applied his brute force. He pried Vincent off me like an old-timey doctor plucking a leech from their patient. The hybrid snarled, his red-stained lips morphing into a sneer at the disruption as bright petals of my blood dribbled onto my chest and throat.

Eros brought his mouth to his den brother’s ear, his tone smoky and murderous in hellishly perfect proportions. “Now, now, Feral. It’s bad manners to bite a lady on her mouth, especially when it robs her of her ability to scream.”

“I’m f–fine,” I stammered. I didn’t sound convincing in the slightest. I was too stunned and still reeling from the savage intimacy that had ravaged my senses to the brink of ruin.

And it had only been a kiss.

The rattle of metal drew my attention to my bedroom window, where Corry was fastening the shades. It was almost dawn.

Sterling.

It was as if Vincent had sliced me open, deep enough to spill far more than my blood by the manner in which Eros had picked up on my thoughts like they were just another stain on my sheets.

“Time is running out. The princess made good on her deal. I wasn’t there the night she claimed you, so I don’t know what went down on that stage. I’m still pissed about that, but from what I heard of it, I’d say that kiss was pretty damn reminiscent. So spill. What’s got your nuts in a knot?”

When the youngblood finished his task at the window, he whirled around and struck us with a look that confirmed the scene was just as erotic from his view as it was from mine.

My blond-haired mate remained crouched behind Vincent, their asses almost touching. With the angle in which Vin’s head was pulled back, he was forced onto his hands, the tendons in his neck straining and his shoulders bulging. My legs were still spread wide open, the hem of my dress bunched at my hips with the fae wedged between my thighs.

“I am a disgrace to my family,” the fae spat. “I will die with a black mark on my soul.”

Eros’ pierced brows hitched with mild surprise. Whatever answer he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. “What do you mean?”

Vincent wore the face of a man who’d lost all hope, with nothing but bitter disappointment and contempt playing at the corners of his eyes. “I will never be a father. My bloodline ends with my death. My father sired no other faelings. It’s a dark fae’s duty to honor their parents by continuing the bloodline and I have failed.”

I blinked up at him, flinching at the shame winding through us both. “I know you don’t believe I’m strong enough to take on my dad, but leave him to me. I’m going to try…”

My skin burned with a full-body blush, making the little space between me and my lover drip with fire. “In the meantime, you can track down Dagon. Rip out his heart.” I sucked my lower lip into my mouth, prodding at the marks where he’d bitten me. They were already fusing shut.

“If we survive this, then the deal is still on, Vin. The implant comes out, and you can breed me. You can save your bloodline.”

You’d think I’d just punched the male in the gut rather than telling him my womb was his for the filling. “I can’t claim your brother’s heart. Not anymore. It’s too late. Meaning I can’t hold up my end of the bargain.”

A cold bead of sweat trickled down my temple. “What do you mean it’s too late? My father couldn’t have killed Dagon. Wouldn’t that break the spell?”

Eros—with his white-knuckled fist remaining fixed in Vin’s hair—let out an incredulous scoff that rustled the inky trusses around the fae’s ear. “Master wouldn’t be stupid enough to kill the only thing keeping him animated. And we’d never be so lucky.”

“Exactly,” Vincent seethed. “Dagon’s not dead, but he may as well be. You know how old vampires develop weird tricks.”

“The older, the crazier,” my sadist muttered, his mouth flattening into a frown.

“Thomas Knight has such a party trick. A really twisted one. He rarely ever used it, probably to keep the Helsing Guild from learning about it. That, and disguising himself was never his style.”

“Disguising himself?” Corry asked from where he lounged against the wall beside the window, arms crossed over his chest. “As in, can take on different shapes, like you?”

“More like forcing himself into his mates’ minds isn’t the only way he can enter people. He can wear them and take on their abilities if they have anything he finds useful. The only reason I know about it is because Sterling mentioned it to me. He said the king tore his apprentice apart back when he was still human, and Ster watched him tear the apprentice to shreds like he was nothing but a worthless rag. He was warning me in case the king decided my shifting abilities were worth dusting off the power. Master valued my fae blood more, it turns out.”

The atmosphere in the room turned brittle.

“So…” Corry swallowed so thickly we all heard it. “If our master has broken free from Dagon, he’s just waltzing around? Wearing his son like a three-piece suit?”

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